Eric's Return
by Mena Grazie
Summary: Two centuries have passed since Eric Northman was forced into a political marriage to the Queen of Oklahoma. Now his Progeny wonders whether he will return to Louisiana or not and if he does, will he stay?
1. Eric's Return

_*Epilogue to **Dead Ever After** (the final book of the Southern Vampire Mystery series of novels) by Charlaine Harris to whom these characters and universe belong. I am simply playing what if. This story takes place approximately 2214.*_

The shadows were deep inside Fangtasia. Pam had closed the club decades ago but Eric still owned the building and she saw to it that it was properly maintained if not utilized. She'd even bought up the rest of the strip mall, razing some parts and quietly refurbishing other parts. She had no idea what Eric would choose to do with the club when he was free, but she wanted to be ready for anything.

She drifted through the silent club like a ghost. It was only appropriate, given that her mind was filled with the past when Fangtasia had been the hottest (and only) vampire club in Northern Louisiana. She'd called it a goth roadhouse when she arrived and she hadn't been far wrong though Eric had turned it into much more by the time vampires came out of the coffin. He had called her to him, just before vampires made their existence known. She had been glad to come. They had weathered that and many other things together. Those had been very good times.

Foolishly, perhaps, she had thought those good times would last.

They hadn't.

Politics had interfered. Eric had been forced into marriage. He had bartered himself for a far higher price than most realized. The human he had become attached to lived out her life in peace and the sun without him. Pam, who had become Sheriff of Area 5 as another part of the marriage bargain had kept an eye on her, her children and now her children's children and their children. For two hundred years Pam had watched and waited and kept things running in Area 5. In all that time, which wasn't quite half her existence, she hadn't seen Eric except at assemblies where he was always at the side of his Queen. Now Eric's marriage was over, his contractual obligations fulfilled, and Pam herself was Queen of Louisiana. She wondered if he would return here or just go...away.

Something stopped her as she turned to leave. A silhouette filled the doorway to the offices. Pam didn't need to see his face. She flew into his arms in less time than it took to say his name.

"Eric."


	2. Pam's Offer

Eric caught his Progeny like a breath he hadn't known he needed. The feel of having Pam in his arms, enfolding her again even as she clung to him intoxicated him more than any faery blood ever could. He savored this moment as much as the moment He had first Turned her. Two centuries was a very long time, even to a vampire as ancient as Eric. Closing his eyes, he buried his face in her honey-colored hair, willing the years and separation away.

"How is it your hair always smells of bluebells and lavender?" he wondered aloud without intending to/

Pam laughed against his chest.

"I've made my own hair rinse for 500 years," she said, her lips caressing the fabric of his shirt, wishing it gone. "I thought you might have noticed before this."

"I have noticed," Eric chuckled. "Your scent is unmistakable to me."

Pam raised her face to smile up at him. Blue eyes met blue eyes but rather than drowning, both vampires were buoyed by the experience.

"It is precious to me," he told he honestly. "As you are."

Pam graced him with another smile. One slender hand rose to trace the curve of his cheek as though she were committing his face to memory. Given her steel trap mind, Pam hardly needed the refresher. Eric wondered what she saw in his face after such an extended separation. Vampires did not change but that didn't stop his gaze from devouring her face seeking the slightest sign that she had not fared as well as he had intended or heard while they had been apart. He found none, to his considerable relief.

"I have missed you," Pam confessed without looking away.

Her directness and honesty surprised him as much as the admission of emotion. Pam had always been…self-contained. She had raised the British tradition of a stiff upper lip to something beyond an art form. Not that he had encouraged displays of emotion. Such things could lead to final death and he had bigger plans and hopes for her. To hear her voice them now…humbled him.

"And I you," he conceded. As her Maker he could do no less. She deserved that much and more.

"I am glad to know that," she said. "I wondered if you would come back here."

It wasn't a question though Eric chose to treat it as such.

"Of course, I came back," he replied, combing his fingers through her hair as much to soothe himself as to reassure her. "You are here."

Pam relaxed against Eric, reminding him how tiny she was. Anyone who mistook her delicacy for frailty made a huge and often fatal mistake. Pam was one of the best fighters he had ever seen or heard of. Her ease with violence served her well. She had risen from a Sheriff's Second to Queen shockingly fast as Louisiana acquired a reputation for being very unhealthy for Felipe's Regents. Eventually, Nevada had run out of vampires willing to take the job. Eric wondered if the King had offered Pam the Regency and she had taken the throne or if Felipe had just stepped aside. Since Nevada still existed, safe in his neon bubble in the desert, Eric assumed the situation had not disintegrated to the point of combat. Pam would have wiped the floor with him, becoming Queen of three states in the process.

Eric tucked her beneath his chin, as close as he could get her clothed. Her joy washed through their bond to be met by a wave of his own. Pam had always been his favorite progeny. They were very alike and being here with her again healed part of the wound Appius' had delivered as his last act. It didn't erase it, for others had taken advantage of the situation to deliver their own blows. For the first time since he had left Shreveport, however, Eric felt like himself.

"I am seeking a Sheriff, if you are interested in staying," she said. Her tone spoke volumes about how worried she was about him and how he would take her offer.

"I do not think I could resume a Sheriff's role in this Area," he began only to be cut off by her familiar smirk.

"I would not ask it of you," Pam told him. "I took a page from Sophie-Anne's book and am Sheriff of Area 5 as well as Queen. It is Area 1 in New Orleans that lacks a true leader."

Eric set her away from him at arm's length and frowned. New Orleans had been _the_ place to see and be scene with vampires since they had come out of the coffin in the late 20th Century. It was a plum territory, rich in tourists and dollars. It was also virtually the only territory in the country that would be acceptable to a vampire who had been a King even if only in name and in a state like Oklahoma. The ruler of New Orleans was the de facto face and voice of vampires in the US and possibly the entire Americas. Why would she offer it to him?


	3. Why Eric?

Pam could see and feel the wheels turning in Eric's head as he considered her offer. In the past, he had always been the more cunning and strategically-minded one. Ninety years on her own throne had wrought quite a difference in her thinking process though he might not be aware of it…yet. Her lips twitched with the need to give him a smirk.

"Why would you stay here rather than take up residence in the Crescent City? he asked.

"I've been here for 220 years, I have no urge to be elsewhere," Pam told him candidly. "I like it and I know what to expect from the Area. That makes ruling the entire state somewhat easier because I'm working from a solid and well established base."

She paused letting that sink in.

"A very wise man once told me to work from my strengths wherever possible."

Eric greeted her not-so-subtle reminder with a bark of laughter.

"I'm pleased all my lessons didn't go to waste," he acknowledged. "That begs the question, however, as to why you would offer anyone, but especially me, the jewel in your crown."

Now Pam laughed.

"I would not offer it to just anyone," she conceded. "You aren't anyone. You are my Maker, my friend and absolutely perfect for the job."

Eric raised a brow. Pam wasn't quite sure what he was skeptical of so she just let the silence grow.

"How am I perfect for the job?" he asked the air quotes around perfect almost visible.

"Is that a rhetorical question?" Pam wondered.

"No," he said, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared down at her.

The pose was more petulant child than stern parent but Pam didn't feel a need to point that out.

"Eric, look at the crowds you attracted to Fangtasia. Humans are drawn to you. So are vampires and shifters," Pam explained with more patience than she felt. "And if your charm isn't reason enough, you're old enough to handle trouble when it rears its ugly head as it inevitably and regularly does in a tourist trap renowned for partying and debauchery. Besides, I trust you."

"You should never admit that," he told her sternly.

"Why not? We're alone. There's no one to overhear us and you already knew it," Pam smirked.

"It's still dangerous," he maintained.

"Fine," Pam acquiesced. "You'll make me a tonne of money in New Orleans and save me a world of headaches."

"Any particular headaches I should know about while I consider your offer?"

His question demonstrated that being a kept King hadn't dulled his wits any. Pam almost purred with pleasure. She knew he was the right person to run New Orleans for her.

"Oh I'm sure you'll find plenty," Pam smirked. "The only ones I'm aware of have to do with the current Sheriff pro tem. He's ready to leave the job so he doesn't pay as much attention as he should, not that he was very good at it to begin with."

"I'm surprised you left him in place," Eric said is a neutral tone.

Pam couldn't tell if he was curious or critical. Not that it mattered. She had her reasons for keeping the Sheriff close though the time had come to let him go.

"I needed a known quantity on the ground," she explained with a shrug. "Bill is boring and a pain in my ass but sending him to NOLA killed several birds with a single stone and kept him out of my hair."

Eric's eyes flashed wide with surprise then narrowed suspiciously.

"Bill Compton is the Sheriff of Area 1?" he demanded as though he couldn't quite believe it.

"Yes," Pam affirmed. "The Stackhouse and Merlotte families have an unfortunate tendency towards shifting and attending college there unless they take after the fae side of the family, then Area 5 is stuck with them. Bill has his faults, however, he's generally proven himself to be adept at handling them and his own descendants."

Eric blinked. Then he blinked again.

"You're still looking after them?" he finally managed.

"Yes. Well, in practical terms Bill is looking after them more than I am but he's doing it with my blessing and I get regular reports," Pam paused. "I owe it to Sookie."


	4. You Owe it to?

"You owe it to Sookie…."

His lover's name fell easily from his lips as though he hadn't been forbidden to speak it since they had parted. Eric braced himself for the wave of pain that usually accompanied the thought of the extraordinary woman who had, for the briefest of moments, been his bonded wife.

The pain never came. Instead there was sorrow over missed opportunity and lost time but even that was bearable. Eric considered the possibility that in returning to Shreveport he had managed to put a few of his ghosts to rest. Perhaps he could find some measure of peace as well.

"Yes," Pam said. "She and the dog were invaluable in the early years. Not only did they hear everything…"

The irony and double-entendre of that statement wasn't lost on Eric. From the wry twist to Pam's lips, she had intended it.

"…but her insistence that she would only travel in my company when Felipe summoned her or loaned her out probably kept me from final death," she admitted.

Eric growled under his breath. He'd done his best to ensure both Sookie and Pam were protected when he left. That his efforts where Pam was concerned hadn't been entirely successful enraged him. That she had turned to Sookie and Sam, her shifter partner, and that they had been able to help and protect his Childe when he couldn't made him feel both better and worse.

"Sookie essentially refused to go anywhere around vampires unless I was there," Pam continued, ignoring Eric's growing fury since she had to sense it. "Later Bill would also be acceptable but he left the Area for the first couple of decades. By the time he returned, Felipe had given up actively trying to end me. I was making him money and I don't think he expected me to be a good Sheriff."

"That just proves how foolish he could be," Eric snorted.

"That's what I thought, too," Pam smiled.

Whatever else she might have said was lost beneath the insistent and almost frantic beeping of a holo notification. It had to be hers because Eric had removed and destroyed every bit of technology Oklahoma had given him, knew about or that had he had used during his so-called marriage. He had not wanted any links to remain and done his best to erase any means she might have hoped to maintain after he left. Eric didn't quite hate her, after all, she had just taken advantage of a situation Appius and Felipe had created. But he didn't like Oklahoma and would never respect her. His idea of the ideal, though not perfect, female vampire was standing in front of him. And there was no way in hell he would ever marry Pam. It was a recipe for disaster. Accepting the position of Sheriff of Area 1 could lead to disaster as well unless there was more to it than she was telling him and Bill could handle.


	5. Problem?

Stepping into the barren center of the room so her whereabouts and company would be as vague as possible, Pam activated her holo-com. In less than a blink of an eye Bill Compton, or a reasonable facsimile thereof, had joined them.

"What?" Pam demanded, adding "I'm busy."

"You're about to get busier. We have a problem," Bill Informed her.

"We?" Pam smirked, an expression Eric mirrored behind Bill's transparent back.

"Yes, we," Bill reiterated. "I have a mostly drained fairy on my hands…"

Eric's brow rose. Pam frowned.

"…and the vampire who did it is someone's agent," Bill continued. "I just don't know whose."

"Then how do you know he? she? is an agent and not just stupid?" Pam asked in a tone that implied she agreed with Bill but wanted more details. "And why isn't the fae dead?"

"Sam and Amalie were tracking the vampire," Bill explained. "Actually, they say they weren't sure he was a vampire until he attacked the fairy. They intervened and rescued…."

"They intervened?" Pam's frown deepened.

"Yes."

Bill paused but Pam didn't press him. Working with him all these decades had refined her abilities to read him. Pushing his buttons right now wouldn't deliver the information any faster. It might even delay it while he nursed a wounded ego. If Pam still observed the faith of her humanity she'd be asking God to give her patience and save her from sensitive people.

"It seems Amalie has inherited some of her namesake's power," Bill admitted at last.

"She's a witch?" Pam asked. Her surprise was great enough to show on her face.

"Yes, and a powerful one though she seems lacking in training," Bill affirmed.

"Of course she's lacking in training," Pam snapped. "She's barely 19 and no one else in the family has shown any more than a hint of ability since Amelia. They wouldn't know what to look for."

"True," Bill conceded the point with a single nod. "In any event she managed to knock the vampire off and shield the fairy until help arrived. The reinforcements contained the vampire while Sam got the fae and Amalie to a safe house where, I am told, Amalie proceeded to pass out cold."

"You sent the Doctor to see to them?" Pam asked although she knew the answer.

"Yes, Dr. Ludwig phoned in a report. Amalie is magickally spent and will need some time to recover. The fae is unconscious and likely to remain so for some time providing it doesn't die of blood loss. Sam contacted the Pack as well as several affiliated shifters to stand guard at the house," Bill paused to take an unnecessary breath before rushing to add: "I've stationed 4 vampires outside and sent Bubba inside, just in case."

It was a breach of protocol but Pam let it slide. As long as the fae was alive, Pam could deal with the repercussions later. After she'd dealt with the miscreant who had landed her in this delicate and dangerous situation.

"Very well, I can see you have that situation under control."

As praise went, it wasn't much. Bill seemed pleased and flattered anyway. Pam didn't let him savor the moment long.

"Tell me about the vampire and why he is a problem," she demanded.

"He's a problem because I don't know him," Bill sighed. "I've never even heard of him and he's not young."

That last was saying something. Courtesy of his continuing work on his database, Bill knew the name of virtually every vampire currently existing and many who were not. For him not to recognize the name implied someone or something was deliberately keeping the vampire hidden and not just from Bill. Pam knew that most if not all current monarchs relied on Bill and his data to guard against uprisings and settle disputes when a vampire met their final death. Of course, none of them would admit they turned to such outside help. Pam knew because they paid her well to pretend like she didn't. So if the vampire who attacked the fae wasn't in Bill's data collection…he was being actively concealed.

"Is he in a condition to speak?" Pam asked, not really caring but also not willing to rush to send someone to interrogate him if he couldn't give them any information anyway.

"Yes," Bill said with a cruel smile that might have surprised Eric had he been able to see it. "Though Cataliades has offered to assist with the inquiry and I am tempted to let him."

Now it was Pam's turn to smile. The demon lawyer had proven his worth more than once to her. In fact, she rather liked him.

"Let's not be hasty," she told Bill. "This smells of something deeper than fae intoxication. I want to see him before the demon takes his pound of flesh AND before the fae start asking questions."

"As you wish," Bill said with far more…servility than he had ever shown Eric.

Pam smirked.

"I will see you before dawn," she said ending the transmission.

Her eyes met Eric's across the room. For a long moment neither said anything.

"You have a problem," he acknowledged.

"Yes, I do," Pam admitted her smirk unwavering. "The question is: how big a problem."

"It's a very good question," he replied.

"Indeed it is. Would you like to come help me solve it?" she asked.

"Well, I can't leave it in Bill's hands," Eric scoffed. "I'm impressed he managed to keep the fae and the vampire alive."

"He's not entirely incompetent, Eric," Pam corrected him.

"He's just not entirely competent, either or you wouldn't need me," Eric observed.

Pam didn't correct him.

"We're burning darkness," she said instead. "Let's fly."


	6. Leapfrog Strategy

She meant fly literally.

After securing a biometric lock, which she also set to open for Eric, the old fashioned deadbolt and a truly ancient iron padlock, Pam turned and winked at him before launching herself skyward. In the blink of an eye, Eric followed suit. He kept a close eye on her as they cut through the night air. Flight hadn't been in her repertoire when he'd left. He was a bit surprised to find that she had not only acquired the talent but also considerable skill in the air at some point while he was gone. She glanced a question over at him when he caught up to her that he didn't answer. Oklahoma's version of flying was a hovercar.

Pam seemed to take his silence as a challenge. Dipping her head into the wind, she put on an impressive burst of speed that wasn't quite enough to leave him in the proverbial dust. Eric grinned and put on his own burst of speed. He wasn't that easy to get rid of. She should know that.

Catching her was easy. Passing her proved to take more effort. He laughed aloud as he managed it. Pam didn't. Sooner than he gave her credit for, she surged passed him, sticking her tongue out at him as she swept by. Eric roared past her roaring with laughter. It had been centuries since he had felt this...free.

They continued leapfrogging each other all the way to the outskirts of New Orleans. Pam signalled they should land on a thin strip of land between a large and a very large lake. They made easy targets if anyone was watching. Of course the size of the lakes would stretch even a vampire's capabilities. To get closer, the watcher would have to been a shifter playing gator. He doubted any would bother but still felt exposed and the single structure in sight wouldn't offer much cover. In better days it might have been a hunting stand or an outhouse. Still, Pam excelled at hiding things in plain sight.

"You moved the Area 1 headquarters out of the City?" he asked as his feet returned to earth.

"No, we are to much of a tourist draw, the City Council would never permit it," she said producing a brush from somewhere and pulling it through her windswept hair. "I thought we ought to discuss strategy while we still had time to do so."

Eric nodded, mostly to disguise the proud smile that flashed across his face.

"Bill is expecting me as is anyone who may have listened to the conversation," she began. "Unless they are family no one is expecting you to be here."

"Family or working for Oklahoma or Nevada," he amended taking the brush from her and applying it to his own hair.

"Fair enough," Pam agreed. "My point is that no one expects you to be here. We should take advantage of that."

"I'm listening," he told her wanting to see if her train of thought would arrive the same place his had.

"I think you should have a look around while you're still an anonymous vampire newly arrived in New Orleans and waiting to present yourself to the Sheriff," she told him echoing his own thoughts.

"I don't know the situation on the ground here," he pointed out. "I could cause more harm than good even if I knew where to start."

"Coy has never suited you," Pam smirked then turned serious. "If you were sending me out, I'd start at the safe house where the fae is which is probably the Ursuline convent. Sam, and Amalie if she's awake, can probably point you to where the attack tok place and maybe where the attacker was spending his days if you can get them to share the information."

"I'm sure I can manage to wheedle some information out of them," Eric responded.

"I'm not," Pam smirked again. "But then I know them."

She couldn't have picked a better way to insure he got every iota of information available from the witnesses and following the stranger's footprints if she'd tried. Eric smiled to himself. He couldn't be prouder of her.


	7. Into the Vamp HQ

Pam was the first to leave the narrow strip of land between Lake Maurepas and Lake Pontchartrain. She launched herself, exhilarated, into the night sky turning towards New Orleans.

Landing on the slender strip of rubber atop the old Louisiana State Bank building now utilized as the vampire HQ, she slid the heel of her favorite pumps into one of the holes in the mat and depressed the lever which slid the iron and silver roof tiles out of her path. The security measure had been added in the early night of her rule and while the anticipated threats had never materialized, Pam saw no reason to invite trouble. Somewhat surprisingly, Bill agreed with her caution, restricting even the number of local vampires who could fly in.

A door behind one of the dormers opened as she approached. No light escaped to betray the access since neither she nor the guards (one vampire and one shifter) needed more than the ambient light or the city to see by. Only when the door closed behind her did any of them speak.

"Pam," Karin greeted her younger sister first.

"Karin," Pam responded. "Bill has you on door duty?"

"Only for you," Bill himself said stepping into the darkened room. "Welcome to Area 1, Majesty. I am suprised you are alone."

Pam turned to face her Sherriff, her smirk in place but an eyebrow raised.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she asked.

Bill and Karin both let their silence speak for them. Pam didn't break it. Bill did.

"Our phantom is downstairs," he told her.

"Cataliades?" Pam asked.

"Returned to his office when I mentioned you were on your way," Bill said.

Something about the way he said it made Pam want to pursue the topic so she did.

"I'm surprised he didn't stay," she admitted. "After all, I'm the one who can grant him access to our guest."

"I believe he wanted you to form your own opinion of our guest and decide what to do without his influencing you," Bill replied.

"He overestimates his influence," Pam asserted.

"Perhaps," Karin added her perspective to the conversation. "He wants access very badly. I cannot say why. But I do know that when a demon has very strong feelings it can affect those around it even without intending to."

For Karin that was quite a speech. Pam chose not to question how her elder sister had come by that knowledge. Neither did Bill. Or he already knew.

"Which raises the question: who doesn't he want to influence, us or our guest?" Pam wondered aloud.

It was an excellent question. Hiding a vampire from other vampires was not as easy thing. A demon, however, could do it, if it wanted to. Which begged the question, why would it want to?

No one in the hallway had an answer for her but perhaps someone in the building did.

"Where are you keeping our vampire ghost?" Pam asked Bill.

"This way," he replied leading the way downstairs to the old banking floor.


	8. Welcome Back to New Orleans

As he watched Pam fly off, Eric considered his own entrance to the city. His eyes followed his child almost the entire way underlining the fact that anyone sharing his visual acuity and having some knowledge of New Orleans could easily determine her destination. He needed to find another way, if he wanted to keep his arrival under wraps.

He wished he could just drive in. That would have made things so much simpler and what could be more anonymous than just another car, albeit a hot one, in the river of vehicles flowing into New Orleans. Unfortunately, no body drove anymore so that option was out. The forms of transport that had replaced driving were out as well. Not only did most require identification, but even if you used a false ID you were easy to track, something Eric preferred to avoid right now. Besides, he was memorable if not recognizable. Plenty of people could identify him despite his long absence. No, common transport wasn't worth the risk. Not yet, anyway.

Having eliminated all the other options, Eric began to run. He took off in the opposite direction from the one Pam had taken, intending to take the long way around the Lake and approach the Quarter through Chalmette and Arabi. Maybe he could grab a bite along the way. He wasn't dying of thirst, however, his innate caution had not allowed him to partake of Oklahoma's bounty during his final months as Consort. The part of his mind not moving his feet at vampspeed wondered whether this was what humans would call "peckish".

He made swift work of the circumference of Lake Ponchatrain, even pausing in the Bywater. Refreshed by his snack, Eric made his leisurely way towards the French Quarter. He insinuated himself into one of the ubiquitous tour groups that still plied their edited version of history along legendary streets, enjoying the opportunity to refamiliarize himself with the City. Things didn't appear to have changed much, which struck him as odd until he reflected on the emphasis humans and nonhumans put on appearances. If he were to guess, he'd wager things had changed significantly behind the serene facades watching the tourists wandering the streets. Perhaps he'd have an opportunity to test that theory before he left town.

As soon as they rounded the corner onto Ursulines, his senses went on alert. The Weres were out in force and the only possible reason they would be lay within the convent walls. His group approached the convent, the humans seeming unaware their every move was being scrutinized. The group huddled around their guide, listening to local lore that Eric knew for a fact was rubbish. No vampire had ever called this convent home, though several had been instrumental in preserving it. The Ursulines were a resolutely human order. According to Pam's information, it still served as a haven for non-vampires perhaps relying on the urban myth their guide was spewing that vampires couldn't enter holy ground. Eric wandered over to the pass-through in the wall while the guide rambled on.

"There is nothing here for the likes of you"

The thick Southern drawl rumbled like ominous thunder behind Eric. He didn't bother to turn to look at the Were.

"If that were true," Eric observed as neutrally as he could with the scent of fae tickling his nose, "then all these tours would have no reason to come here."

"I said: There's nothing here for you," the Were repeated stepping up.

Eric's fangs flashed into place. It had been decades, maybe centuries, since he'd enjoyed a good fight and he was tempted to cut loose. The Were sounded like he could put up a good fight.

"I think you are lying," Eric all but hissed.

As Eric expected, the Were took another step closer, a growl rumbling up from animal inside. Eric smiled then frowned when something moved beyond the gate.

"You need to leave. Now," the Were told him.

Eric didn't budge, his attention focused on what looked like a female dancing towards them. The figure stopped at the edge of the garden closest to the gate. She stood there staring at him. Eric stared back. The Were stepped up to the gate beside Eric.

"Go back inside," the Were barked at the female.

Without a word, Eric lashed out and smashed the males face repeatedly into the metal gate until it began to bow.

"Stop it!" the female cried, dashing forward.


	9. Who Are You?

The vampire sat motionless at the center of a sphere of colloidal silver. Pam had to applaud Bill's ingenuity. The sphere, made of silver suspended in liquid and held in place by an electrical field, kept the vampire confined without resorting to the unattractive obviousness of cells or cages which might have disturbed the tourists touring the historic building. She wondered if he had patented the idea, as she paced around the circumference, studying it from multiple angels. If he hadn't, Pam definitely would. It could bring in a tidy sum. unfortunately, it made it difficult to see the individual within. On a more positive note, the prisoner probably couldn't see out any better than she could see in.

"So the Queen Bee as finally deigned to make an appearance."

The hoarse voice emerged from the sphere with little apparent trouble. Sound, at least, did not appear affected by the field. That could be good or bad. Pam gave Bill a pointed look and raised an eyebrow.

"What makes you think her Majesty would bother with the likes of you?" he asked, taking the hint.

The stranger laughed as though Bill's question truly amused him.

"Do you really think I don't know the Queen of Louisiana when I see her?" he asked in what may have been a rhetorical question. "Besides, we've met before, Pam and I."

His voice didn't sound familiar. Pam never forgot anything and that included voices. This one...was not one she knew. Voices could change but it would take a tremendous injury to alter the voice of a vampire past recognition. Still, she could not discard the possibility out of hand, especially since such a grievous wound could also explain his anonymity. Such wounds were rare. The only one Pam could personally confirm was Sophie-Ann whose story evidenced why a wounded vampire would hide themself away until they were whole once more no matter how long it took. It could take a very long time.

"You are mistaken," Bill told him.

"You are lying," the stranger countered, sounding way too confident.

From the shadows, Pam studied him. It was difficult, even with the excellent vision of a vampire to pierce the silver sphere that held him. She doubted he could see any better than she could which meant he was bluffing.

Bill seemed to think so, too, though he saw no need to defend his honesty.

"As you like," Bill said. "but I assure you, the Queen has more important things to do than concern herself with one vampire who can't control his thirst."

"Do not presume to know me," the stranger snapped.

"I do not have to pretend," Bill replied with characteristic equanimity. "You are no one, just like many of the vampires too vain to control themselves and convinced of their place as an apex predator who come to this City seeking cause trouble every year. If you will not answer my questions, what good are you?"

The sphere began to shrink as Karin began playing with dials on a control panel concealed in the wall beside Pam. The stranger didn't notice the changes at first. The constricting space caught his attention eventually without contacting his skin. It paused a hair's breadth from his skin and anyone watching could tell he knew it. Karin really was remarkably accurate. Fortunately, he didn't breath or he would have silvered himself.

"Who are you and why are you in New Orleans without the leave of myself or Louisiana?" Bill asked.


End file.
